


Whumptober Day 6 2020 “Please...”

by sherlockwhomentalist



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Mild Language, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:01:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26866333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockwhomentalist/pseuds/sherlockwhomentalist
Summary: Today’s Whumptober! Tony being tortured for info about Cap after Siberia.
Kudos: 3
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Whumptober Day 6 2020 “Please...”

Tony woke up in a coughing fit, his lungs feeling like they were filled with nails. He turned himself onto his stomach and tried to pull himself onto his feet, but he could only stay with his forehead pressed against the ground and his limbs tucked underneath him. 

“Get up!” a man shouted, kicking Tony in the gut. Tony coughed, each breath making him flinch. He grabbed at his side as he forced his aching limbs to move. Probably a cracked rib, Tony selfed diagnosed. 

The most he could manage was a kneel, his hand shaking and lips parched. The back of his throat was drier than a desert. Tony tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. His eyes began to sting with unshed tears.

“I said,” the man grabbe Tony by the collar of his ragged shirt, “get UP!” 

Tony placed his feet under him and forced them into a stand, his head rolling forwards close to the man’s shoulder. 

“Ugh, Jesus Christ.” Tony hit the ground with a thud, letting out a yelp as pain shot through his torso. “Tie him up.” The man spat, the saliva landing on Tony’s face.

Firm hands grasped his arms as he was dragged into the middle of the dimly-lit room. The floor slightly wet as if taunting him with water he could never have. Shackles clicked around his wrists as they were locked in place. Tony fell limp, his body happy at the new relief. 

There was a sharp jab at his side, and Tony hissed as to not scream. Damn that hurt. 

“You are going to tell us what we want to know. No lying, no idiocy.”

“Surprised you can… call someone else an idiot…” Tony trailed off as a cough racked his body.

“Shut up!” the man growled. A hand slapped Tony across the face, making his cheek sting and eyes water. 

“Now, tell me where Captain America is hiding, and I might just not kill you.”

“Go ahead.”

“What?”

“Go. Ahead.”

Tony looked up at the man furiously. He would never give up Steve’s location, even after Siberia. Even after they beat each other to a bloody pulp, not after Steve drops off the face of the earth leaving Tony to try and pull what’s left of the team back together. That failed, in the end.

And the man just… laughs. It started as a snicker, into a snort, and then to a full on fit. Tony’s brows creased, and then he dropped his head again.

“You didn’t think I would actually kill you now, did you? Let me rephrase it for you. I might not make you wish you were dead.” 

“Do what you want. I don’t care.”

Tony hardly had the energy even before this whole debacle. Pepper , Rhodes, and Happy were the only bit of stability he had left, and even they were slipping away. 

“If you insist.” There was a receding of footsteps and the screech of a metal door being slid closed. The man cracked his knuckles, stretching as if he were about to do some heavy- lifting.

Tony prepared himself for the pain. He shut his eyes, forgetting about the world around him as the man took an object off the wall. 

“I don’t get to do this often.” There was a click of a flicked switch and bright lights flared onto his face. Tony had to screw his eyes shut tight.

The man struck a match against a matchbox, and crouched down at one end of the room.

“This is my favorite place. There’s just so many options to choose from.” He blew out the match as the fire started crackling. The man bent down to latch extra shackles around Tony’s ankles.

“Everyone calls me old timey. But I call it effective.” He shifted the metal pipe in his hands, a menacing smile forming on his face. The man sat the pipe end in the fire.

“Have a name?” Tony asked. “I’d rather not call you Evil Dude as I narrate this in Hell.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure one out.” The man prodded Tony in the gut and chuckled as Tony flinched away. 

“How about Asshole? No, that’s too on the nose. Dick is better. Let’s go with-“ Tony screamed out a scream as he was beaten in the leg. He painted as the pain seared his thigh. 

“That was good, how about another one?”

And Dick went like that, one swing, 5 second break, switch legs, another swing, break. Tony couldn’t feel his legs, only a volcano-sized heat. Stupid pain tolerence. If it wasn’t for you I would already have died from shock. I wouldn’t have to do this.

Tony took in panting, shallow, shaky breaths. He prayed for anything to take him, fuck, he was begging.

A cough shook his body, and Tony held back the tears of agony. Dick laughed, setting the bat back on the out-of-sight rack. The lights glared into his eyes, blinding him to everything else. Water trickled from the ceiling onto his head every so often. 

Dick gripped Tony’s head by the hair and lifted his head to look at him. Smiling at closed eyes, Dick said, “If you tell me where he is, you can end this.”

Tony huffed in amusement. Dick growled and tightened his grip on Tony’s hair. “Fine.” He let go of Tony and went over to the fire. He took the metal stake he had placed in there earlier. The tip was glowing pale orange and white. 

Tony went to struggle, but his legs screamed with the effort. The blood circulation to his wrists were cut off, leaving his hands numb and cold. His cracked ribs made every breath a struggle. Tony gave up, falling completely limp.

Dick stuck the metal pipe to Tony’s side, the burning iron searing into his flesh. Tony let out a piercing shriek, straining against the chains. Dick stuck the metal against Tony’s back, his shirt going to flames as the scorching metal seared a brand onto his back.

“Tell me!” Dick shouted over Tony’s screaming. The shirt fell from his shoulders, and let out a sizzle as the water on the floor singed the fire. 

“Never!” Tony yelled back. 

In anger, Dick took the pipe and beat it against Tony’s back. The hot side burning his flesh as he walloped Tony. Soon the pain became too much and Tony’s world slipped into a pain-filled black. 

When Tony woke again the fire had died, but the lights were still on. Water quit dripping onto his head, and his throat was still parched. The door screeched as Dick entered, and then the door promptly shut behind him. 

“Well, well, well. You’re finally awake!” 

“Wish I wasn’t,” Tony croaked. 

“Tell me where Captain America is hiding, and I’ll let you go.”

“No.”

“That’s a shame.”

Dick walked to his abuse rack, taking another item off the shelf. Tony became extremely aware of his exposed back and bruised skin. And of his useless legs and hands.

There was a crack and a ragged slice that trailed from Tony’s shoulder to his hip. Another crack and another slash, crisscrossing the previous one. Dick giggled in delight as he whipped Tony to shreds.

“The whip has always been my favorite. It’s so effective!” Dick laughed. “They used to make them out of human spines, ya know.”

“Thanks for the trivia, but I don’t give a fuck.”

Dick gave a few more furious whips, slicing Tony’s back open. He could feel the blood oozing out of his wounds and soaking his shredded jeans. Tony didn’t have the energy to scream.

Tony could feel the skin being ripped from his back. The heat of the fire licked his sides as the chill of the rest of the room seeped into his wounds.

Dick, whip still in hand, went to the door and turned a knob. There was a noise like a rusty AC and the room began to drop in temperature. Tony saw the whip: made with a barbed rope and a rubber-gripped handle. 

He went back to grab something from his shelf and then went over to the corner of the room. He made a few hand gestures before setting a pair of headphones over his ears. There was a sudden blast of noise. It was piercing like a trumpet and made Tony want to curl up and cover his ears.

“They said 40 is the limit, right?” Dick shouted above the noise, holding up the whip. “How about I make it 41?”

Tears welled in Tony’s eyes as he hung limp and aching. His shirt lay in an ashy mound in front of him, and his jeans were soaked in his own blood. The brands along his back and stomach were starting to swell, and his, probably broken, thighs were throbbing as if they had their own heartbeat.

There was another crack as Dick struck his whip time and time again against Tony’s exposed skin. He couldn’t take it anymore. But he had to, for Steve. 

Tony tensed up and began to struggle against the chains, straining and trying to pull his wrists and ankles away from the iron encasing. Dick kept whipping him, unbothered by Tony’s movement. 

Tony felt the bone in his thigh shift and a wail escaped his lips. He collapsed, his toes hovering over the ground. It’s no use, he thought. I’m not making it out. 

Dick made a “kill it” motion with his hand and the trumpet cry stopped. He took the headphones off and went to look at Tony, as if he was concerned. When he saw Tony, though, he burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

“Ha! You got yourself hurt! I love it when they do that!” Dick wiped a tear away from his eye and went to his shelf to grab another weapon. He returned with a giant hunting knife. He shifted it in the light and admired it. 

“Where is he?” 

Tony didn’t have the energy to reply. Tears began to run down his cheek, making the water on the floor ripple. It made his dry mouth drier to see water so close yet so far. 

Dick lifted Tony’s head with the tip of his knife under his chin. The point cut into his throat slightly, a small trickle of blood running down his neck. Each movement of his throat made the knife cut a little deeper.

“Please… stop…” Tony rasped.

“That wasn’t the question,” Dick growled. “Where. Is. Captain. America.”

Tony’s tears turned into a sob and he tried to force his head to stay still so as to not slice his neck. Dick glared at him, his nose curled in a snarl. He took the knife away, letting Tony’s head roll forwards. 

An alarm began to sound and Dick’s head shot up and over to the door. He ran over to the metal door and began to bang his fists on it.

“Hey! What’s going on out there?”

There was a thud and Dick quickly backed away from the door. He looked down at a human sized dent in the door. There was another thud, the door creaking under the strain of a body being flung at it. With one more hit, the door flew off and onto Dick, causing Tony’s tormentor to be slammed against the wall. 

Tony felt himself slipping away. He couldn’t register if this was a rescue attempt or some other gang coming to collect him. 

“Hey, Tony.” Did he recognize that voice? “We got you know, everything’s going to be okay.”

There was a snap and Tony fell to the ground, the chains around his wrists broken off. His hands began to feel again, but they didn’t move. His head hit fabric instead of the cold, wet ground. There were a few more snapping sounds and all of his limbs were free. 

“Oh, god. Tony what did they do to you?” They slipped their arms under Tony’s legs and back, carrying him bridal style. Tony whimpered as they touched his wounds, and they apologized profusely.

Tony found himself gripped the person carrying him as they went about the corridors and out to the exit. There was shouting and gunfire, sparks of explosions and blood spatter. He heard a few names being thrown about, but he couldn’t discern them. 

“I got Tony!” the man carrying him shouted, the rumble of his voice vibrating through his chest. “Let’s go!”

The loud blades of a helicopter got louder as the man rushed over to the ship. Is that? The Quinjet? Why…

Tony squinted up at the man. It’s Steve! His breath came in short gasps as pain filled his mind. He looked behind at a group of people running towards the Quinjet after them. Wait, they’re his old team. Tony gripped Steve tighter as confusion filled his mind.

Steve sat Tony down on a padded cot, Steve’s words becoming a jumble of noises as Tony’s mind got foggier. 

“It’s going to be okay. You’re safe now Tony,” Steve said, holding Tony’s hand in a sign of comfort. Tony’s eyelids flickered, and Steve’s gut felt like it was doing somersaults. 

There was a gentle hand in Steve’s shoulder. Natasha crouched down beside them, one eye on Tony and the other on Steve. 

“We got him back. It’ll be okay,” she soothed.

“Yeah.” Steve tucked the hand he was gripping next to Tony’s side. He was acutely aware of the burns and bruises that laced his abdomen. The rest of the team, six others, were huddled together in the small space.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Check out my tumblr (sherlockwhomentalist) and my other works!


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